REMI
the alchemist
What good are hands
if there's nothing that they hold
if there's nothing that they hold
"No?" Remi flashes the Madame a boyish smile. "Were you expecting something like.." The world around them ripples and shifts. Mountains jut from the horizon, though they're upside and painted the same purple as the gown Maeve wears. Stars twinkle with a tactile texture and smell like morning dew. Sounds are made visible, rendering the lapping of the waves into white shapes that float up from the waterline and gradually become clouds. "..this?"
Across the world a melody rises, the rhythm of which is informed by the beating of their own hearts, and gradually the light dims until the world is bathed in a sunset spectrum of colour.
"This is how our son came to exist." Remi explains out of nowhere. "He was conceived in a dream. The product of love and want for another life, and nothing else."
Across the world a melody rises, the rhythm of which is informed by the beating of their own hearts, and gradually the light dims until the world is bathed in a sunset spectrum of colour.
"This is how our son came to exist." Remi explains out of nowhere. "He was conceived in a dream. The product of love and want for another life, and nothing else."
And what good are hearts
if you bury them all alone?
if you bury them all alone?
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
